


Gimli's Secret

by thudworm



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Genderswap, Gigolas Week 2, Trans Female Character, fem!Gimli
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-27 23:16:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2710253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thudworm/pseuds/thudworm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Many thanks to <a href="http://orchis.tumblr.com/">Orchis</a> for all the wonderful help she gave me with this fic. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Gimli's Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [Orchis](http://orchis.tumblr.com/) for all the wonderful help she gave me with this fic. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it.

Gimli cursed quietly to herself as she packed her belongings in preparation for departing tomorrow with the newly formed Fellowship. It was only now the full implications of her decision began to catch up to her- not the danger involved, nay, any Dwarf worth their name would not shy away from a task for so trifling a concern as risk of injury or death. Instead she realised that the nature of her companions (no fellow dwarves and a ruddy Elf of all things) meant she would be stuck being known as Gimli son of Gloin.

“Now now my daughter, what’s got you all worked up? Not that damn Elf already is it? I shudder to think about  having to spend that long around one of them haughty weed-eaters. Better you than me I think.”

“Adad! I did not hear you enter. Nay, ‘tis not the Elf, or at least only partly. More the prospect of spending months amongst others, with no fellow dwarf for company. For it is sure to be a long journey, and I find the prospect of being forced to pretend to be someone I’m not wears thin- already, and it has not even begun!”

“Aye, I well remember the irritation felt by some members of the company all those years ago when we reclaimed Erebor. The prospect of travelling with a Hobbit and a wizard was not a pleasant one, at least at first. That blasted wizard always seems to know more than he should about matters no outsider should be aware of. And Bilbo turned out to be more like a dwarf than we might have thought. The Hobbits joining this venture seem to be as good as kin to him, you may find a sympathetic ear amongst them, though not if the Men or the Elf is nearby.”

“I had forgotten Bilbo was a bearing male, and he was only really accepted amongst us Dwarves, but not his kin. I shall have to see if these Hobbits are like the rest, or if they will be willing to accept me for who I am. I suppose there is always the wizard to talk to, if he does not insist on talking in riddles for once.”

“I know you will do me and all our people proud in this mission, my daughter. No matter how these others see you, you are nathithuh. Do not forget it.”

“Yes, Adad. I will do my best to make you proud. This time it is you being left behind as I go off on a mad quest, instead of the other way around!”

With a quiet laugh Gloin left to let his daughter prepare in peace, for as much as one can ever be prepared for a journey of such importance.

 

*

 

It was more than two weeks into their journey before Gimli was able to find a chance to talk to Frodo without prying ears listening in. They had travelled a good distance that day, following the western side of the Misty Mountains on their way south. After walking about 5 minutes from where their camp had been set for the night, they came across a fallen log that served well as a bench.

“Frodo, would you tell me of your Uncle Bilbo? Although I only ever met him the once, in Rivendell, I have heard much about him during the Quest. I would like to know how he has fared in the Shire these past 80 years, has life treated him well?”

 

“Well enough, I suppose. After he returned home he was sometimes referred to as ‘Mad Baggins,’ but only ever when they thought he couldn’t hear them. He always said he didn’t mind those whispers, because they were preferable to always being called by the wrong name. He told me that it took running away and then returning for people to start calling him Mister Baggins and Bilbo, rather than the name he was given when he was born.”

 

“What about you, lad? Did you ever have trouble accepting Bilbo as who he said he was?”

“When I was just a faunt, I can remember Lobelia telling me that I shouldn’t call Bilbo my Uncle. I was confused, I thought she meant I should refer to him as a cousin because that’s technically how he is related to me, but I was always taught to refer to those much older to me as Uncle or Aunt as a sign of respect. When I asked my parents, they told me not to worry about it, and to still call Bilbo Uncle. The next time Mama saw Lobelia she was livid. I didn’t understand what she meant at the time, it made no sense to me why Lobelia wanted people to think that Uncle Bilbo was really a girl, and by the time I figured it out, I knew not to believe her. Bilbo always has and always will be my Uncle.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that lad, it makes me glad to know he had some who treated him well. Now,” Gimli sighed, “do you think you can keep a secret if I was to share something about myself with you?”

“Of course I can! Although given what we were just talking about, I think I might be able to guess what this secret of yours is.”

Gimli couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Aye. You’re definitely Bilbo’s nephew, clever just like him. I’m not the son of Gloin. Just how Bilbo was what we call a bearing male, I am a siring female. I suspect the wizard already knows, he always seems to know everyone’s secrets, but I’ll thank you not to tell any other members of our group. Do you think the other Hobbits will be as accep-”

Gimli stopped speaking mid-word when she heard a rustling coming from a nearby shrub. More quietly than would be expected from a dwarf as heavily armed and armoured as she was, Gimli  took hold of her axe and moved to assess the threat, but instead found three Hobbits. Grabbing the nearest, Pippin, by the ear, she dragged him out from behind the bush. Merry and Sam followed sheepishly, heads down and avoided looking at either Gimli or Frodo. Gimli gave a low growl under her breath.

“Just what do you three think you were doing eavesdropping like that?”

“We didn’t mean to, honest. We were just looking for anything we could find to improve the cooking, and then we heard talking, and didn’t want to interrupt or anything, so we just sorta hid, and waited for you to finish, but Merry couldn’t hold still, and then you found us...”

Sam trailed off, and Gimli just shook her head in fond exasperation.

“Hobbits! I suppose that means you heard what I told young Frodo here about myself?”

All three nodded silently.

“Well, like I said to Frodo- don’t go telling anyone else, or talking about it where any of the others can hear you. It’s my secret to tell to whom I choose.”

All three nodded again, before Pippin spoke up.

“Does that mean we should still call you Master Dwarf?”

Gimli didn’t bother to answer, and turned and walked away as Merry started to scold Pippin.

 

*

 

Knowing there were members of the Fellowship who were aware of her secret, and were capable of keeping it, was a source of comfort to Gimli. There was no chance to broach the topic with any of them, occupied as they were with attempting to reach the other side of the Misty Mountains, but the fact some accepted her as she was was enough for her. It was not until the group had made it through Khazad-dûm, and the devastating loss of Gandalf, that the topic was mentioned.

Often Legolas and Gimli would leave behind the other members of the Fellowship and wander together exploring Lothlorien. Frequently their conversations turned to remembering Gandalf and reminiscing, sharing their grief. It was after several days of time spent together, or perhaps a week, that Legolas decided to ask the question that had been bothering him since before their journey through Moria.

“It has not escaped my notice that you seem to share some secret with only some of the Fellowship. Gandalf was privy to it, and it seems that all the Hobbits are also. Do you not trust we others in the group?”

“Nay, it is not a lack of trust, at least not in the way you seem to think. It is more I doubt the ability of those who are not dwarves to truly understand, and from there I worry your regard for me will change.”

“I do not understand as it is. Perhaps you should try me and see what I may or may not understand. You were willing enough to speak to the Hobbits on this matter, why not I?”

Gimli settled herself on a convenient bench, and began to prepare her pipe, in the hope that a good smoke might make this a less stressful conversation to have. She glared at the elf until he took the hint and sat on the bench, though he sat as far from her as possible, the smell of the pipeweed an unpleasant affront to his nose. They sat in silence for several minutes, the only sound coming from the pipe, until Gimli began to speak, slowly, choosing her words carefully.

“Have you ever wondered why no Elf, Man, or Hobbit, has ever seemed to have met a female dwarf?”

“I had not thought to consider it, no. But now it has been mentioned to me, I find myself curious.”

“When leaving our homes and mountains, all dwarves- regardless of their true gender- dress in the manner of males, we refer to ourselves as he, and introduce ourselves as sons of our fathers. But more or less half of the dwarves travelling the world, as traders, or merchants, or guards, or whatever other occupation, are what all other races would consider female.”

The odd wording of Gimli’s statement caught Legolas’s attention.

“You said that they were ‘what all other races would consider female,’ but not dwarves?”

“No getting anything passed you it seems,” Gimli grumbled quietly, more to herself than to her companion. “No. We dwarves have a different, more nuanced, understanding of gender. You consider me to be male, but you are wrong. I am actually female.”

Legolas sat there, in shocked silence, as Gimli warily waited for him to react or respond in some way.

“But...” Legolas trailed off, trying to find the right words to express his thoughts. “Being on the road offers little in the way of privacy when it comes to tending to personal needs. I have seen more than I might have wished of you, and all the other members of the Fellowship. And, forgive me for putting this so bluntly, but I have seen enough of you to know that you are indeed male.”

Gimli spoke in Khzudul, and from the tone Legolas could only assume it was cursing of some kind. “Mahal save me from the stupidity of Elves. I knew it would be a mistake to try to explain this to a non Dwarf. Have you not been listening to a word I've said! We Dwarves see such things differently. Simply because my body is one capable of siring a child and not bearing one says nothing of who I am. I am female because I say I am, and I know my own mind and thoughts and feelings.”

At this point Gimli had risen from the seat and drawn herself up to her full height. Her voice had also gotten louder as her tirade went on, drawing the attention of Merry and Pippin, who had been ‘exploring’ Lothlorien.

“Is everything alright? We heard shouting...”

Pippin trailed off as his mind caught up with his mouth and he took in the scene before them. Gimli was obviously angry at the Elf, face almost as red her beard; Legolas was quiet, and had a look of shame.

“It’s fine. Don’t know why I expected anything different from a ruddy tree-shagger in the first place.”

It was clear to both Hobbits that they had inadvertently interrupted an argument, and without further ado set about diffusing the situation. As Hobbits they had plenty of experience in handling irritated relations; the first step was to find a new topic to distract from whatever the cause of the problem was. Merry caught Legolas’s attention by asking about the trees of Lothlorien, so very different from those he was familiar with back in the Shire.

Pippin decided to ask Gimli for help with his sword-work, claiming an opponent closer to him in height was preferable. In truth, he had no issue when it came to practicing with Boromir, despite the Man being twice his height, but Boromir had been in no mood for company the last time Pippin had approached him, seemingly too lost in his own thoughts. Asking for Gimli’s assistance instead also had the benefit of separating the quarreling pair, allowing them both to calm down and move on.

 

*

 

Legolas and Gimli successfully avoided each other for the remainder of the day. The next day they were perfectly polite to one another, but no longer did they venture together to explore Lothlorien as they had done before. They continued in this manner for the rest of their time in Lothlorien, no harsh words shared between them, but no words of friendship either.

By the time came for the Fellowship to leave Lothlorien Gimli was missing the friendship of Legolas deeply. As the group made their way down the Anduin there were many occasions Gimli found herself wishing to share an observation with Legolas, or she wished to simply engage in light-hearted banter with him, before thinking better of it. She was unsure of how welcome any attempts to repair their friendship would be, and hence said nothing.

In the evenings as they set up camp of the banks of the river, Gimli found herself paying attention to Legolas more than she intended to. Being on a watch shift always plenty of time for thinking and little else, and Gimli often found her thoughts returning to the argument between her and Legolas in Lothlorien. It was far from the first time she had encountered scorn or derision for her gender, but this time it was different. Usually it was of little consequence to her, and it was forgotten almost as soon an it happened, but Legolas’s rejection of her identity was almost painful. She shied away from considering just why Legolas’s opinion meant so much more to her than the opinion of others, deciding that the middle of a Quest was not the place or time for such things.

Legolas was the one to begin to bridge the gap between them. By day five of their travel down the Anduin he was tired enough of the distance between them to risk invoking Gimli’s ire, and began to speak, as though to himself, of the change in the types of trees lining the banks of the river. It was not a particularly interesting conversation topic for an Elf, let alone a Dwarf, but it served its purpose as a safe point of discussion- no chance of unwittingly causing offense in either culture.

Twenty minutes was how long it took Gimli to be fed up with hearing about the finer points of trees, and ask for a change of topic to something else, anything else. Legolas smiled to himself and instead began to share a story from his childhood. Gimli shared a story of her own in kind, and from that point on things were much improved between them, close to the friendship they had begun in Lothlorien before their quarrel.

The chain of events following the disastrous time at Amon Hen left no chance for Gimli to attempt to broach the subject of her gender with Legolas. Days spent running across the plains of Rohan meant she was left with no breath to speak, and riding together on Arod was no better. Although there was an improvement of the relationship between them, Gimli still found her thoughts frequently turning to Legolas, wishing there was a way to make him understand and accept her as she was. Why it mattered to her so much she was unsure, but she avoided thinking on it overmuch.

It was during the siege of Helm’s Deep that Gimli was forced to admit the truth to herself. She was in love with Legolas. She feared for the safety of all her friends, but her concern for Legolas was different. Deeper. The middle of a battle was no time for matters of the heart however, and Gimli resolved not to think on it further until there were no more Orc necks to cleave, and they were safe. Her gender was still an unresolved issue between, one that would need to be dealt with one way or another before there could be any chance of something between them.

 

*

 

To anyone observing the pair there were no signs of lingering discontent between them. But both were still very aware of the topic they avoided and skirted around in conversation. The subject of Gimli’s gender had not be raised again by either of them, until the night of celebration and mourning in Edoras.

All members of the Fellowship present in Rohan had spent many hours enjoying the hospitality, especially the ale. The only exception was Gandalf, who had retired to bed after merely an hour. Merry and Pippin were frequently the centre of attention, captivating the Rohirrim with their enthusiastic demonstrations of of Shire songs and dancing. Aragorn had not been seen for several hours, and Gimli had a passing thought of hoping he wasn’t off getting himself into too much trouble. She was distracted from thinking of Aragorn any further when Legolas tripped over his own feet. ‘So much for the gracefulness of Elves,’ she thought to herself.

“Tell me more about Dwarves.” Legolas suddenly asked, breaking the silence with his slightly slurred question.

“What would you want to know about us? Don’t go expecting me to start spilling all our secrets.”

“Of course not. The only other dwarves I have spent more than a few minutes around was the Company of Thorin Oakenshield. Are any of them known to you?”

They had reached the door to the room shared by the Fellowship, and it took several attempts for Gimli to manage the handle set for someone much taller in stature than she. “Aye. I knew them all. Was related to half of them too.”

“I did not know. Although now I think on it I can see a strong resemblance in you to one Dwarf on particular.”

“That would be my father Gloin you are thinking of, I’m sure.”

“Your father. That would mean it was you image in the locket he had when the group was captured. Although I seem to recall him talking about you as a ‘wee lad.’ Forgive me, if I am prying, but I truly wish to understand. ”

Gimli did not answer immediately, instead making her way to the balcony outside the room. “If we are to discuss such things then I feel I will need my pipe.”

Legolas followed Gimli to the balcony, the cold air a sobering hit to the face. He waited until Gimli had finished lighting her pipe before asking his next question. “Amongst the members of the Company, were there any who were... like you?”

“You mean any who do not match with the limited view of those capable of bearing children being female only, while those able to sire children are only considered male?”

“I suppose that is the essence of my question. Although I wish to make it known to you that I do not agree with that ‘limited view’ as you put it. I was mostly taken aback by hearing such things from a non-Elf. I was wrong. Forgive me.”

“Yes, there were those in the company like me."

“Which members, if that’s not a rude question to ask? As far as I was aware they were all male Dwarves.”

“That’s what you were meant to think. Some of the group were male, but many were not. As for dwarves like me, siring females, there were two. Bombur, who had the giant loop beard, and Princess Kili. One of the three members of the company who did not survive the battle.”

“If I recall correctly she was the dwarf who Tauriel developed affection for. At the time I could not understand it, how an Elf could come to care deeply for a Dwarf. Our friendship has shown me the error of my ways. I also see now they had more in common than I would have believed possible. Jealousy probably paid no small part in my thoughts also. There was a time I had myself convinced I was in love with her. Not that my father would have allowed the match.”

“Why? Because it would not have been a bearing union?”

Legolas was shocked at the suggestion. “Of course not! No Elf would ever base a courtship or the refusal of one on such grounds. My father’s reasoning was based on social positioning, apparently no ‘lowly Silvan Elf’ was good enough for his son.”

“So... You would not be opposed to beginning a courtship with someone like me?” As soon as the words were out of her mouth Gimli could have kicked herself. Obviously she was more drunk than she thought she was, to be so blatant in referring to her feelings.

“Is that a question in regards to your gender, or your race?”

“Both. Either.”

Legolas was silent for a long moment, a blank look on his face that Gimli had learned to recognise as the expression he wore when considering something deeply. The silence went on long enough to become uncomfortable, and just as Gimli was about to turn and leave, perhaps get much drunker in the hopes of forgetting this conversation ever happened, Legolas finally spoke. “I would not be opposed at all. In fact... I have been contemplating the best way to ask you for just that.”

Gimli stared at him, open mouthed in shock, and did not notice her pipe clattering to the ground. “If this is a jest it is a cruel one, and in poor taste at that.”

“It is not a jest at all, though I can understand how you believe such a thing possible of me. I truly regret the strife I caused to our friendship with my unthinking words, and I've wished I could take them back every day since. I understand if you do not think you can forgive me, but my greatest wish is to show you just how much I have come to love you.”

“Come here you daft Elf,” Gimli replied, reaching up to grab him by the braids and pull him down into a deep kiss. It was several minutes before Gimli pulled back, releasing Legolas’s braids. “Of course I've forgiven you. Ever since Helm’s Deep I've known that I love you too.”

Legolas was the one to initiate their next kiss, and they happily remained in each other’s embrace for many long minutes, trading kisses back and forth. The sound of speech just outside the main door to the room reminded them of their surroundings, and the lack of real privacy. They had just enough time to break apart and attempt to smooth rumpled clothing before Merry and Pippin burst through the door to the balcony.

“Oh, hello. We didn't realise else had come back to the room.”

“Apart from Gandalf, that is.”

“We weren't interrupting anything, were we?” Merry asked suspiciously, looking over Legolas’s mussed braids and Gimli’s tangled beard.

“No, not at all. Legolas was just keeping me company while I was out here with my pipe. I think he wanted to avoid Gandalf’s snoring more than anything.”

Merry still looked unconvinced, but Pippin didn't seem to have noticed anything amiss. “Well, this has been a fun night, but I’m for bed. Are you two coming inside now?”

“Won’t be long, I still have the last of my pipe to finish. You pair of scamps go on, we’ll be inside in a minute.”

Once they had gone, hopefully beyond hearing range, Legolas spoke quietly. “I believe Merry will have some particular questions for us to answer in the morning.”

“Aye, I don’t doubt it. We’ll deal with it when it happens, together.”

 

*

 

Many months later, and Legolas was both dreading and excited for the end of this particular journey. Together he and Gimli had returned to Fangorn Forest and explored the Glittering Caves together, and their next destination was Erebor to meet Gimli’s kin. When they were only several hours away Legolas gave voice to one of his main concerns.

“It occurs to me that I have made an assumption of your parents, and I would prefer to be corrected before I meet them and perhaps offend them the same way I did you in Lothlorien. Up until now I have been thinking of them as your mother and father, but that is not necessarily correct is it?”

“You are half right in your assumptions. The one who sired me is indeed my father, and you have met him before. Sixty years ago, he was a member of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, who you had imprisoned in your dungeons for a time.”

“Oh.” Legolas paled considerably at hearing that. “He’s not going to come at me with an axe is he?”

Gimli laughed at that. “He might threaten to, but he’s all bluster. My other parent wouldn't stand it for it even if he wasn't just bluffing. I’m unsure of what their gender will be when we arrive, just follow how I refer to them.”

"What? What do you mean you are unsure?"

"My bearer is sometimes my mother, sometimes my father, and sometimes simply my parent.They do not consistently feel as though they belong to any one gender."

"This is an entirely new concept to me. Are there other ways it is possible for a Dwarf to be?"

"Of course. Let's see now. My cousin Annar is... Hmmm, I am unsure of what the translation onto the common tongue would be. They do not see themself as male or female, or any other gender for that matter."

The rest of the journey to Erebor was filled with Gimli explaining the details of gender amongst Dwarves, including the many intricate ways Dwarves had of signalling such things to others. Legolas tried, and failed to keep track of the flood of information, and simply resolved to follow Gimli’s lead.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The ways of Dwarvish gender is a topic I feel very strongly about, as can be seen [here](http://thudworm.tumblr.com/post/96611823079/dwarvish-gender-headcanon). I would love to talk about it all in more detail, if anyone is interested.


End file.
